


Idle Hands

by thelastsock



Category: British Actor RPF, Henry Cavill - Fandom, Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M, Fingering, Hand & Finger Kink, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Denial, Spanking, light primal play, ruined orgasm, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:40:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26682325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelastsock/pseuds/thelastsock
Summary: Henry realises you have a fascination with his hands and decides to play with you.Princess, are you paying attention?Good.You’ve got until I get to one.--He just had the kind of hands that made your mouth go dry and your heart beat faster.
Relationships: Henry Cavill & Reader, Henry Cavill & You, Henry Cavill/Reader, Henry Cavill/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 66





	Idle Hands

**Author's Note:**

> This started with a gif of Henry Cavill's hands and grew from there. I have no excuses, I just like his hands ok!

_Princess, are you paying attention?_

_Good._

_You’ve got until I get to one._

**5…**

He just had the kind of hands that made your mouth go dry and your heart beat faster.

Henry, the skilled actor and study of a character, picked up on it before you even voiced the thoughts to yourself.

And he wanted to _play_.

So the next time Henry was on the clock with you, chatting to the press, he had a plan.

He started with just lingering touches, fiddling with your watch strap, adjusting your dress for you. He knew you couldn’t take your eyes off him when he was dressed to the nines and found it cute that you loved to watch him talk about his career.

You stood next to him, as he explained about how excited he was that another DC movie was up for an award this year. You could listen to his passionate explanations for hours but right now nothing was making it past the pounding in your ears. Your brain had gone from attentive partner to horny teenager as you considered for the first time that you might just have a little obsession with his hands.

Heat flooded your gut as you considered what those hands could and had done to you. You bit your lip as you tried to reign in your thoughts, desperately wishing that the interview was over so you could do something, anything about the gnawing ache threatening to consume you.

You caught his eye as he mentioned the support his family had given him in his career. His eyes appeared to sparkle with joy but you knew him better than that. That look was one reserved for you and you alone.

Oh. He didn’t just do that with his hands did he? No, it had to have been an accident that his huge hands made that kind of gesture that set you alight like a flint on a campfire.

He turned his attention back to the reporter and his elaborate hand gestures slowed down.The air felt heavy with anticipation as you followed the movements of each finger and palm as they spoke to the blooming lust between your legs. As one palm slid over the other, you could almost feel the friction from his palms, as if they were rubbing against your soul. Lighting up all the nerves on your skin from within, washing your body with a fever that left you weak.

You barely contained your whimper as his hands clapped together. Your pussy clenched in automatic response to the sound of skin on skin, desperately wishing it was his skin on yours. The echoes of the contact between his palms still reverberated in your ears as the interview came to a close. You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, both thanking the reporter and moving onto the next thing in the press junket.

His warm hand slid around your waist as he led you away from the reporter. He lent down to whisper in your ear just as it was your turn in front of the flashing lights.

“Just warming up my hands for later.”

**4…**

The semi-darkness provided some relief for your flushed face as you found your seats. Henry pulled out your chair for you, tucking you in as you sat. His hand brushed against your bare neck as he scooped your hair over your shoulder to prevent you destroying your beautifully coiffed hair. You smiled up at him but it became fixed as you watched him, your mind wandering elsewhere.

His sinfully long fingers curled around the lapels of his jacket, as he shucked it off his shoulders and placed it gently on the back of his chair. You noticed the tendons in his hands moving over the knuckles as he manoeuvred himself into the seat next to you.

You swallowed and turned to the stage, trying to lose yourself in the atmosphere. A few awards later Henry’s hand had crept along the back of your chair, the knuckles of his fingers beginning to run up and down the edge of your shoulder.

If anyone had asked you wouldn’t have been able to name anyone that crossed that stage for the next several awards as you focus was solely on the feeling of the firm bone and soft skin gliding against your own, almost hot on your exposed shoulder.

Throughout the dinner, he talked jovially with the others on your table, his hand always busy on your skin. His hand was resting against the back of your neck, a finger tracing the edge of your pulse point. Unable to take it any longer, you leant forward to grab the wine at the centre of the table. His hand gripped you at the nape of your neck and firmly directed you back into your seat. Your rear collided with the seat cushion with a quiet thump only detectable to his ears. He smiled down at you, a cheeky grin that set your whole face aflame. He turned and spoke to the table at large, offering to pour the drinks. With each word, his hand drifted casually down your arm, leaving goosebumps at the light touch.

You swallowed as Henry rolled up the sleeves on his dress shirt to show off his bartender skills. Inch by inch, his thick forearms dusted with downy dark hair, were exposed to the dim light and your lustful gaze. You watched entranced again by the way he moved, smooth and steady movements, well practised. The pop of the wine cork brought startling clarity to the muscles rippling underneath his skin. You felt a responding ripple move through your body, your thighs clenching underneath the table cloth.

Your wine glass was the first poured, as per gentleman’s etiquette. But the look in his eyes was anything but gentlemanly as he handed the glass over. Your heart tripped over itself as his lust-blown pupils bored into yours and his fingers caressing the smooth skin of your fingers around the stem of the cool glass. Then the moment was gone. He moved onto the next glass as if nothing had happened, leaving you stupefied in your seat, heat pooling rapidly between legs.

**3…**

A few glasses of wine later and the evening was starting to wrap up. The light glinted off his watch creating crazy patterns across the cream tablecloth that covered your table. You focused on the reflected light as Henry’s hand landed on the small of your back and started to make a painfully slow journey up and down your bare back. The pads of his finger tips caressed the now tensed muscles along your spine, each touch light enough they had you squirming in your seat. He paused, digits quiet but obvious on your skin. You could feel his thoughts flickering through his mind as his fingers twitched.

A moment later his hand spread out, where you could feel the length of his fingers stretching out across the small of your back. You gasped as each pressed into your waist in quick succession, before biting your lip hard enough to taste the metallic tang of your blood to stop from squealing outloud.

As quickly as the sensations started, they stopped. Henry’s hand moved to shake hands with a passing friend. This continued the whole way out of the venue. Henry’s hand constantly pressing into your most sensitive places and then moving away again. A finger skirting along your spine whilst you spoke to a director you’d known for years had you laughing at a light joke like it was the best you’d heard. A thumb gliding across your wrist as you discussed the period costumes of a feature film with its designer had your toes curled inside your expensive shoes and fists clasping your bag with white knuckles in a bid to stop the giggles threatening to escape. In the darkness of the room, your flushed chest would have been invisible but Henry could feel your quaking muscles and the heat radiating from you. All he offered you was a smirk and his outstretched hand as you emerged into the cool night air.

**2…**

As you stepped into the back of the waiting limo, you could feel Henry’s eyes on your back. You settled into the backseat of the car and moments later Henry was in your personal space, the door shutting firmly behind him. The wizened limousine driver greeted you both and promptly shut the divider, starting your journey home and leaving the two of you in a tense silence.

Henry towered over you in the small space as you shuffled back along the seats a little to give yourself some space from his presence. But he reached across the space between you again, his hand resting against your cheek, reassuring and soothing until his fingers became restless and brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His cerulean eyes were crackling with tension, waiting to be released onto you. Your tongue darted out to move across the indentations your teeth made earlier as you contemplated the same idea. That silent acquiesce was all he needed to claim you in the flickering lights of the city streets shining through the tinted windows. He sought to trace the tendons down your neck until this thumb rested on your clavicle, fingers almost digging into the soft flesh of your arm. The tension rose at an alarming rate until you were convinced the floor would melt with the heat coming off you.

A beat later, his hands moved again to run his finger around the edge of your strapless gown like savouring the froth from the rim of a cup of coffee. He stopped short of licking his finger, but his index finger lingered long enough between your breasts to make you pant with desire. Suddenly, he tugged you forwards with the lone finger, capturing your lips with his in a breathless kiss.

It felt like electricity along the surface of your skin. Beads of sweat conducted the sensations along every length of your body until you were thrumming with need, tiny hairs raising like static electricity, ready to discharge at a moment’s notice. Your hands grabbed at his jacket, holding his lips to yours until you couldn’t breath.

You pulled away from Henry’s mouth, breathless and dizzy with lust and wine. Your shoulders collided with the soft leather seat as you leant back, away from the intoxicating scent of warm cloves and pine that surrounded Henry tonight. Your unfocused gaze caught the streetlights bathing Henry’s hair in a pale orange light, lighting him up with an ethereal glow. Whether an angel or a devil lie behind those eyes was a question for another time.

You caught his hand as he moved to claim you again, pulling his hand to your lips instead. You worshipped his hand digit by digit, wet kisses at each finger tip. Henry inhaled sharply as your hot tongue flicked out to taste his skin. One last kiss to his palm was all you managed before he grew impatient and tugged you onto his lap. His otherworldly eyes held curiosity in them as you kicked off your shoes and settled over one of his huge thighs instead. Your clit ached for friction from the torturous touch Henry had inflicted upon you that evening. His hand automatically held the soft globes of your ass cheeks, squeezing the flesh as you moved slowly against his thigh.

Your painted lips opened in a rush of air on contact, pleasure mingling with the alcoholic buzz still riding your veins. Your crimson fingernails dug into the scruff of his shirt, leaving red welts on the back of his neck as you rode his thigh. Your lips so close to his ear he could hear every whimper and moan you uttered. In return he whispered into your ear, encouraging your lewd behaviour.

“You like me touching you, do you Kitten? My hands all over your soft skin?”

You let out a whimper as one of Henry’s hands moved to your thigh to still your rocking motions.

“Can you hold it for me? I’m not done playing with my little Kitten yet.”

You leant forwards, your face nodding into his neck, not trusting yourself to speak. His hand slid up your back to rest possessively on the back of your neck, stroking the warm skin.

**1…**

His hands. Fuck his hands would be the death of you. He pulled you up to face him, placing your bag in your hands as the car rolled to a stop.

“Princess, are you paying attention?”

Shit. Your eyes locked onto his as you nodded again.

“Good. You’ve got until I get to one.”

The look of confusion must have been clear on your face as Henry chuckled. He leant over to open the car door, the light glinting off his canines, predatory behaviour oozing from every pore. His lips closed in on your ear and whispered one word. 

“Run.”

Frustrated and keyed up, you shot out onto the dark front lawn of your house. You span on the spot, chest heaving, looking for somewhere to hide. Heart in your chest, you heard him counting down from 5, the sound echoing in the open space. Your lips formed the words too as you listened.

You scrambled up to the house, bare feet sliding on the grass. You giggled before clapping your hands over your mouth. But he’d heard you, footsteps hurrying closer as the countdown continued. After two tries, the door fell open under your shaking hands. You barely managed to stumble through the door and shut it behind you as Henry rounded the corner. You saw him through the glass door panel, white hot lightning shooting through you at the look in his eyes.

You hurried up the hallway stairs, hearing the door creak open behind you. Breathless with adrenaline and laughter from the wine, you tripped over the last step. Hissing as your knees collided with the rough carpet, you backed up as his hulking frame appeared. He was silhouetted in the dark corridor, passing through a door frame barely bigger than him. As that last number left his lips, you felt a cold presence at your rear. You’d backed up against the kitchen counter. Nowhere else to go and out of options to delay. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

He stepped closer, the moonlight slanting through the windows only served to accentuate the prowling movement and the rippling muscles beneath his skin as he approached. His jacket gone and his straining shirt undone a little, exposing the dark shadow of his hairy chest. His presence seemed to tower over you long before he was pressed up against you, trapping you between his hard body and the unmoving counter. You felt his hands glide over your hips and pass your waist, teasing and gentle until he reached your arms. His grip turned vice-like as he lifted all your body weight in his hands. He placed you on the edge of the worktop, the cold, smooth marble against your flushed skin sending shivers down your spine. His hand. Fuck. It slid up the side of your calf, over your knee and pushed up the hem of your already short dress. The other hand reached back to unhook the back of your dress. In mere seconds, you were bare other than the thinnest of lacy underwear you could have possibly worn. Your giggles mixed with the sound of rending fabric and Henry’s growls as he ripped the flimsy fabric from around your womanhood. Sensations all blurred into each other as he explored your exposed skin. His head dipped to press hot kisses against your neck, teeth nipping a little in response to the whimpers falling from your lips. His hands roaming the map of hills and valleys on your body, each touch leaving a burning fingerprint of longing that marked his travels.

“Henry!” you whined, as his touch danced away from your pussy for the third time.

“Uh uh Princess. You’re mine to do with as I please.”

His tongue licked a stripe up the side of your neck to nibble at your ear, his hot breath loud in your ear. A shiver ran down your back at the feeling of his teeth and breath so close to your sensitive neck. His bruising kisses ran back down your throat, the pressure against your windpipe on the border of too intense. His interest in your neck waned, his hot hands meeting his wet lips at the valley of your breasts. He groaned deeply at the sight and feel of your chest against his face, making a meal out of each inch of skin available.

You would gladly be his plaything any day of the week but the wine had made you bold and careless, your hand drifting between your legs to dip into the moisture dripping from your folds onto the body-warm marble. You managed to keep the secret between you and your fingers until one particular groan pulled Henry away from the purple line of desire he was painting across your chest to glance at you. He waited a beat to see how close you were before his hand gripped your wrist and pulled it away from your sensitive nub and away from the edge of what you’d hoped would have been a spectacular orgasm. Tears clouded your vision as he took the pleasure from within your grasp.

“Only I give you orgasms Kitten, you know that.” Henry tutted, carelessly flicking a nipple with his spare hand. You yelped at the unexpected pain and pleasure that chased each other through your body. He yanked you off the side onto the kitchen floor before pressing your hand into the warm and wet imprint you left on the counter.

“Bend over.”

No request made but a demand asked directly of your throbbing and confused pussy. You bent at the hip and braced yourself against the kitchen counter, back flat and presenting yourself for Henry’s viewing pleasure.

“If you want to come so bad Kitten then you’re going to keep coming until I say you’re done.”

You could imagine his shirt sleeves rolled up his forearms again as he stood behind you, one hand gripping your hip possessively as the other moved between your folds seeking your heat. Your fingers scrambled for purchase on the slippery kitchen counter as his fingers pressed inside you. He curled his long fingers, pressing down with each thrust until you were gasping his name into the crook of your arm.

_Crack_

The sound of flesh hitting flesh reverberated around the expansive kitchen. You keened as the stinging sensation jarred with the deep pleasure Henry was inflicting on you. His hand rubbed the flesh of your rapidly reddening ass cheek.

_Crack_

This time the round globe of your other cheek caught the blow and you jolted forward at the impact, knees caving in a little as Henry pushed you relentlessly towards the edge. Your moans become higher in pitch with each impact that Henry visited upon your skin, thighs shaking, sweat laying a sheen across your skin in the moonlight. Henry kept up the pace until finally you came violently around his fingers. You felt your thighs become wet and the squelching sounds increase in volume as he rode out your orgasm.

Henry withdrew his fingers from your still spasming walls, seeking to retain his fingers just a moment longer. But you had little time to mourn the loss of sensation as the sound of rustling fabric and faint metal reached your ears. You tried to turn your head to get a look at Henry but he saw the tousled curls move before you could see more than his bare forearm gripping the edge of his suit trousers.

“Eyes front Kitten. Only good girls get a peek.”

You obeyed, eyes drifting back to the pitch black marble in front of you, the rest of the kitchen forgotten in the gloom. From there your eyes rolled into the back of your head as Henry slowly and smoothly pushed his cock between your soaked petals. His hands returned to their rightful place on your hips. His fingers pressed into your pelvic bone, urging you to arch your back a little more. The new angle sending white hot and cold sensation to your extremities, a result of the overstimulation Henry was serving you with every inch of his dick pushing deeper.

“Fuck you’re so tight.”

Henry’s grip on you tightened enough that you’d feel his grip like a brand deep in your muscles for days afterwards. His thumbs massaged the hip bones under his grip as if trying to sooth a worried animal. You were panting with the effort of staying in position, resisting the urge to move your hips, to hurry the beast up. You knew he’d just go slower if you tried to fight him, so you whimpered your feelings towards the floor, loud enough for Henry to notice and bottom out inside you in one thrust. He loved to hear the surprised groan pushed from your throat when he took you by surprise.

Take you by surprise he did as a hand smoothed up your damp back to grab the back of your neck to pull you upright. A thick arm wrapped around your hips to hold your tiptoeing legs in position as he pounded into you.

“That’s it. Press that pussy back onto my cock.” he grunted in your ear, his thrusts speeding up. No words or thoughts entered your mind, you were running purely on instinct. The need to have Henry have control over your body overtaking all your rational thought. The desire to have him pump you full of his seed urged you to bounce your hips back with equal force, chasing, seeking that high of euphoria that only Henry could bless you with.

You felt the pleasure roll up your body like a tidal wave with little warning. Suddenly you were screaming and cursing, clutching at Henry’s arms, neck and hands as he kept thrusting, pushing you further. His grip on your thrashing body tightened, unwilling to let you go, to let you come down from the high. He sought his own as your belly tightened again, coiling up around the length of his manhood pressing into you over and over. You felt as if you were floating on a sea of light, almost to the point of drowning as you felt Henry push deeply into you one last time, his grip painting more marks onto you, some only visible in the way you would move tomorrow.

He came with a low roar, almost purring into the skin of your neck. A few moments later, he lowered you both to the floor onto the remains of your dress and his trousers. The shirt he was still wearing was sticking to his sweaty, panting chest. It wasn’t until dawn peeked over the horizon, painting the kitchen in shades of orange and crimson light that you moved to the bedroom, thankful that tomorrow was a day of rest.


End file.
